Home > Princess Ballot (Royals of Arbon Academy #1)(35)

Princess Ballot (Royals of Arbon Academy #1)(35)
Author: Tate James

Fallen Angel now had the advantage he’d been searching for, and he took on two guards, fighting them both in hard, striking blows.

That left one for me, and I was almost excited to flex my muscles. The last two had been on the run, but this was different.

The guard was a foot taller than me, and he had a lot of bulk. His red hair was shaved military short, just like the others, and his eyes were hard. Mean. This was a guard that liked inflicting pain and abusing his power. Perfect.

Seeing me as weak because I was small, he launched himself at me with swinging arms and hard fists. I dodged the first two hits, but let a third graze across my shoulder. It hurt, but it allowed me to get in under his guard to deliver a fast series of gut and chest punches. I went for the softer, fleshy parts, so that I didn’t break my knuckles or hands. Usually I’d be taped up for hand-to-hand, so I’d have to be careful.

The guard let out a gush of air, and I cracked him again in the exact right place to wind him.

I didn’t realize that the Fallen Angel had dispatched his two until he tried to step in on my fight.

“No!” I said harshly. This was my battle to win.

Both the Angel and the guard jerked their heads back, and I cursed my own stupidity. I’d spoken. They now knew I was a chick. Fuck. Fuck. Fucking fuck.

Oh well, the damage was done now. And they didn’t know what chick, even if the Fallen Angel was staring at me hard. I could feel his gaze.

With a huff of annoyance, I ran at the guard, and no longer fucking around, I used the wall for some momentum, pushing myself up so I could hit him with a straight shot. Maybe it was because I was female, or maybe I just took him by surprise, but he never even raised his hands, taking the hit like a pro and going down in a loud crash.

A hand wrapped around my biceps, and I swung out, slamming the side of my forearm into whoever was holding me.

“Whoa… whoa,” Fallen Angel said, holding his hands up. “I’m not the enemy.”

There was something familiar about his voice, the husky rumble triggering a memory. “Jordan?” I asked because he had a slight American inflection.

There was a pause, and then the angel nodded. “Who are you?”

I opened my mouth to tell him, but then … I decided that wasn’t the best idea.

“My persona is Vengeance,” I finally said. I’d always been Vengeance, dressed in purple but without a mask because in our underground circuit no one hid their faces. But I figured I could step right back into that world here.

“Well, Vengeance, we should maybe get out of here,” Jordan said, holding out a hand to me.

I ignored it because I didn’t want him to think I was a damsel in distress, just because he now knew I was a chick. Men were all the same; even after seeing me fight, they couldn’t help themselves.

Pushing past him so I was first, I ducked into the right tunnel and sighed with relief at the little hawk on the wall. Jordan stayed right with me all the way back to the academy, and there were thankfully no more guards.

He showed me how to open the entrance. When we stepped into the light, I turned to thank him, then stopped dead as I finally got the full picture of just how tall, broad, and overall fucking huge he was.

I mean, Jordan was a big guy, but I could have sworn that Fallen Angel looked even bigger tonight.

Then he turned those eyes on me, and I barely stopped the word motherfucker from exiting my mouth.

Fallen Angel was not Jordan. I’d recognize those eyes any-fucking-where. It was Rafe. That deep blue color was not common, and despite the American accent he was faking, I knew I was right.

Bastard had pretended to be Jordan. Did he know who I was?

“See you later, Violet,” he said, turning and walking away.

Guess that answered that question.

For a moment, the dark hallway all but closed in on me as I tried to figure out what had happened tonight. It felt like a thousand years since I’d snuck out to follow Nolan.

Shit! Nolan!

Was he okay?

Sprinting through the halls, I made it to my room, unlocked it, and crept inside in case Mattie was still asleep.

She was, but her furious twin was camped out in my armchair, arms crossed over his chest as he waited.

He rose, and I ripped the mask off, finally feeling like I could breathe again as my hair tumbled down my back.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Nolan hissed, stalking toward me. His hands were rough as they wrapped around me, hauling me up into his chest. “I’ve been going out of my damned mind.”

An adrenaline crash had been coming, and when he held me tightly, a huge breath left me. Boneless, I sank against him, letting him hold me. I needed the comfort, and Nolan was a first-rate hugger.

“Sorry,” I murmured, well aware that Mattie was still sound asleep. “I got knocked into a tunnel and a guard followed me. Had to fight him off, but I made it back.”

Nolan’s chest rumbled, anger and concern in his gaze as he pulled back to see me better. “You fought a Swiss guard?”

Rolling my eyes, I snorted. “Don’t sound so surprised, dude. Just because I’m a chick doesn’t mean I’m useless.”

One of those “less” words I hated.

Nolan didn’t laugh, still looking dead serious. “It’s not that I think you’re useless, far from it. The guys on the team will probably talk about the hot chick who could pluck a seventy-kilometer-an-hour ball out of the air for the rest of their lives. But Rafe’s guards … they’re highly highly trained. It’s something that is a big deal in the Switzerlands.”

Yeah, I could tell that from the way the crown prince fought.

“What’s Jordan’s persona?” I asked, wanting confirmation.

Nolan jerked back at my sudden subject change. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I don’t know. None of us know each other’s.”

I could tell he was lying. Maybe not about everything, but I had a feeling he at least suspected the personas of his friends.

I let him get away with it though. I was too tired tonight to push, and I was certain that Fallen Angel was Rafe. I really didn’t need any confirmation.

Mattie started to stir on the bed, and Nolan jerked into action, shoving my mask into a drawer before pushing me to the bathroom. “Shower,” he said, “I’ll get you your room back.”

I ventured into my bathroom, realizing how much I actually did want a shower. Through the open door I heard murmuring, and then the twins called out their goodbyes. I replied as my front door closed.

Stripping, I turned the water on hot and waited for steam to fill the room. Stepping inside, I dropped my head back and let the spray wash over me. My hands pressed into the wall, and I left them there to stabilize, even though I wasn’t really that shaken. If anything, I felt a sense of relaxed relief that I’d gotten some fighting in tonight.

At one point my Sensei had warned me that I couldn’t let fighting take me over, that I needed balance, but I’d tried and there was nothing that gave me the same release.

I’d been weak and vulnerable at one point in my life, a point where everything had been taken from me, a point where I’d lived in fear.

Learning to fight, to defend myself … it had given me all of it back—a sense of self and sense of worth, a sense of safety in this fucked-up world.

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